It's Complicated
by allonsysouffle
Summary: SuperWho AU: plotlines don't matter. Clara is transported from the TARDIS to the backseat of the Impala. What problems will she and the Winchesters face while trying to get her back home? Pairings: Clam, Whouffle, Destiel?. Please note that this story is not ship-centric. Rated K for some swearing.
1. Chapter 1

**The year is 2013.**

**Set before the angels fell, about midway through Season 8. The Winchesters aren't bothered about the trials yet, they aren't worried about main plot-driving villains, and Cas is still an angel who helps them out once in a while. Basically just ignoring all the plot and having an adventure because fuck plotlines.**

**Also set after the Name of the Doctor, but before the 50th.**

**For my secret santa, Maren.**

The most wonderful sound in the universe echoed through my ears.

I was in my bedroom. Normally, one would be afraid if a strange man came into your room in a teleporting blue box, but I was pretty far from normal.

Those brilliant blue doors opened and I rushed in, taking the Doctor by surprise as I smothered him with an enthusiastic hug. I was a hugger. The thing about the Doctor is that he really doesn't mind physical contact. Lucky for him and lucky for me- except that time he 'soothingly' put his hand on my inner leg once, claiming his species 'did it all the time'. We don't talk about it anymore.

The Doctor let go of me and kissed both of my cheeks. Laughing, I took off my leather jacket and hung it on one of the levers on the console, which the Doctor clearly disapproved of, considering his sour-lemon face.

"So.." I started. "Are we actually going to go anywhere, are are we just gonna stay here and talk about stuff? Because if you want to chat, we could do it in my bedroom, I guess."

The Doctor absentmindedly flicked a couple of switches. "Nah. Let's go to Semtis 3- I hear the ice clowns are fantastic! Or, fancy a trip to the African plains in 1902? I believe I left an Egyptian queen and a sexist game hunter there a while ago..."

I let him ramble on for a few more minutes about places all around the universe, letting the pleasing tone of his voice wash through my mind.

Then, some sort of noise interrupted my thoughts. It was extraordinarily loud, and I winced. It was quite like the TARDIS sound, but with a hint of.. melody underneath, like some rock song. _But it can't be.. _

I looked over to the Doctor, but he was still talking, oblivious to whatever was happening.

I whimpered as it grew louder still. _What the hell is happening to me?_

"Clara?" the Doctor said distractedly, before noticing me fall to the ground. He rushed to my side and held my head in his hands. "What's wrong?"

"I.. I can hear something." My hands went to my ears. The sound was much more distinguishable, but it was deafening.

"What is it you hear?" the Doctor questioned, looking straight into my eyes.

I tried to push myself upwards but I found I could not stand. My muscles burned with strain.

"It's the sound... of Metallica?"

The world went black.

When I came to, I couldn't believe it. I was sitting in the backseat of a car, while gray fields stretched for miles outside the window. It was about noon, and the sun cast pale light across the dry autumn grass.

Oh, and two guys were singing along to Metallica in the front two seats. Well, I say singing. More like screaming.

They didn't notice me, so I did what the Doctor was always telling me to do- _Observe_.

I was clearly not in Britain- the driver's seat was on the wrong side.

There were two men sitting in front of me, singing out-of-tune to some song I just barely recognized- I'd a girlfriend in Year 10 who always listened to heavy metal bands, and I had to learn the difference between them just to stay in a relationship with her.

The men were large and beefy, and I could tell they were smiling through the song, laughing at each other's failed attempts at harmonies. They were either best friends or boyfriends, I couldn't decide.

The man in the driver's seat was about 30, and he had sandy brown hair. I could just about see his face in the mirror- he was handsome, with green eyes and a cheery smile, his face dusted lightly with freckles. He was wearing a crinkled leather jacket with the collar up- I immediately pictured him as the kind of guy who picks loads of fights in pubs but still has good morals at heart.

The other man was taller but seemed younger, with shaggy, long brown hair, broad shoulders and a blue plaid shirt. I couldn't see his face, but he definitely looked imposing to me. He was twiddling a shiny object between his fingers as he sang. After a few seconds, I realized it was a knife.

I made some sort of incoherent gasping noise at this revelation, only to have that exact knife pointed at my nose half a millisecond later.

_Damnit. _


	2. Chapter 2

"Who the hell are you?" the younger man asked in a stern tone while the other one pulled the car over before turning to me. He was much more handsome than I thought he'd be.

"U-um.." I stammered, trying not to stare into his stern hazel eyes. "Clara Oswald."

The man with the green eyes glared at me. "But _what_ are you? Huh? How did you get here?"

_What am I?_

"Um, I'm just Clara. I'm.. human.. if that's what you mean... and I've no idea how I got here.. I was just..."

I was at a loss for words for the first time in my life. I stared into their eyes, trying to look brave, but I probably just looked terrified, which I was. Slowly, the tall guy retracted his knife.

I brushed myself off. "Who are you two, then?"

The tall guy looked amused, even slipping me a hummingbird-fast smile. I was starting to like him more and more.

"I'm Sam, Sam Winchester," he explained. "That's my brother Dean." _Well, there goes my boyfriends idea._

"Okay... where exactly am I?" I asked.

"A... highway? In our car?"

"No, I mean what country? State? I need some specifics!"

"Um, we're in America. Driving through Wyoming. Where were you last?"

"London, England."

"Crap."

"So, you sure you're... human?" the other brother interjected. I hadn't noticed, but we'd started driving again.

_So this guy obviously has had experiences with aliens. Great. Another expert, except with guns. And American, too. Flipping fantastic._

"Last time I checked, yeah!"

"Well," said Dean. "We're gonna check anyway."

_Um... what?_

Dean nodded at Sam- this was clearly some sort of brother code thing.

Something cold and wet landed on my face. I scrunched up my face. _What was that?_

It seemed to be harmless. Sam had thrown it at me via a plain silver flask.

"Okay, not a demon," Sam declared.

"Uhh... demon?" I mumbled, confused. "Is that, like, some kind of alien?"

Two heads whipped around.

"What? I mean, asking me if I was human? Splashing me with some concoction? Not being bothered by teleportation? Don't you_ know_ about aliens?"

"Sorry, honey, not aliens," Dean chuckled. "We specialize in demons, angels, and all those creepy creatures. But never aliens."

My eyes widened. "Like, seriously? Angels?"

"Well, that was our theory for teleportation," Sam explained. "It could still be viable.. what _exactly_ were you doing before this happened?"

_Oh, crap. How am I supposed to explain the Doctor?_

"It's a long story."

"It's a long drive to the nearest town," Dean countered. I gulped. This would take a while.

About half an hour later, I'd explained the basics of everything Doctor-related. Timelord, TARDIS, time-travel, the whole shebang. Dean seemed to be smiling the entire time, while Sam literally got out a notebook from somewhere inside the glove compartment and started jotting things down.

Oddly, they didn't seem surprised by a lot of it- namely teleportation and time-travel. Sam told me it was because angels could do both. But they couldn't get their heads around the fact that aliens were real.

"So, angels, devils, werewolves, capital-G God... and you don't believe in aliens? Where were you in 2009? Daleks invaded London and everything!"

"That was the year Lucifer broke free," Sam said quietly. "Don't you remember the apocalypse? Earthquakes, freak storms?"

"Not at all. That's definitely not right."

Apocalypse? _Lucifer?_ These guys were probably more crazy than me.

We pulled into a roadside motel (painted a garish pink and named The Darling Motel) just as Sam showed me news reports from 2009 which clearly outlined freak weather, terrible earthquakes, and other odd things. There was no mention at all of Daleks, or an alien invasion. I even searched. Nothing.

Even I remembered it happening, and I was pretty young- about 16, maybe.

We'd been on one of the streets that the Daleks passed by- my cousins on Baker Street had not been so lucky. Apparently everyone in that area had been taken to 'the mothership' and they never returned.

I still remember seeing one of my neighbors- some deranged old man- go after the aliens with some sort of paint gun. Never saw him again either.

We got out of the car, and I noticed what it actually looked like for the first time. There are things you can't appreciate when you're stuck in the backseat, and one of them is the Winchesters' car.

I didn't know what it was called, but it sure looked nice. The design seemed vintage, but it was polished so lovingly it looked as good as new. It was one of those badass, low cars which rattled and purred at whim. It was a far cry from the pastel yellow Volkswagen Beetle I had back home.

"Your car... It's awesome!" I exclaimed. Dean glance at me with genuine surprise. His Cupid's-bow lips melted into an easy smile. He was starting to trust me- and I was starting to trust him.

Sam and Dean handled all of the motel transactions. They signed in as Joe and Ash Wimbly, and me as their cousin, Ellie.

_Why do we have to have different names? It's not as if we're super spies. _

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I almost didn't notice the receptionist saying, "Sorry, Sirs, the only rooms we have open have two beds only. Would that be a problem?"

_Crap. _

My crossed fingers did nothing. Sam and Dean smiled and shook their heads.

_Two beds, two giants and one tiny girl?_

_It's gonna be a long night._


	3. Chapter 2 point 5

_TARDIS INTERNAL CAMS 1_

The Doctor buries his face in his hands, choosing to see darkness rather than the absence of his friend. He is too old and too tired to try and find her. His mind replays the scene- Clara falling and dematerializing with the faded sound of static still ringing in his ears. HE thinks of Clara, his good, sweet companion, and he lets out a sigh that is unlike him. He knows he should be prancing about, searching and learning and finding and loving and-

He stands up, letting something- a memory, an emotion, a piece of himself- float from his head. His mind has gone blank and his long legs wobble and he doesn't quite know why.

Absentmindedly, he lifts Clara's leather jacket from the lever she hung it from. It still smells of her, all floury and flowery, with a hint of lemonade.

He leans against the console, and ponders what his next step is. Something took his friend from him, but what? And why?

He checks the internal cams from a minute ago, rewinding his moment of hopelessness to the very second she disappears. Nothing new or exciting is found and he runs his fingers through his hair, desperately searching for clues. Nothing but the faintest smell of ozone and Twix bars.

He catches himself before he falls headfirst into a pit of despair as he so often does. He settles on a theory- it's a bad theory, a real work in progress. Just an idea.

He figures she's in a different universe.


	4. Chapter 3

I shuffled behind the boys, watching them closely. They were whispering to each other, probably about me. Or aliens. I tried not to eavesdrop but I caught snippets like "parallel universe' and 'angel interference'.

When we got to the (quite small) hotel room, which was decorated with flower-printed yellow wallpaper and a couple of paintings. I dumped my only possessions- one hair clip and my mum's ring- on one of the bedside tables. Everything else was still inside my jacket pockets... still on the TARDIS.

_Oh God, the TARDIS. The Doctor must be frantic. How am I supposed to get back? What am I supposed to do? This arrangement with the boys can't be permanent. Oh, and I'm pretty damn sure I'm in a different universe. Isn't that just peachy?_

Dean claimed the bed farthest from me, throwing his duffel bag onto it. The innards of that bag rattled, and I made a mental note not to play with Dean's stuff.

Sam reluctantly tossed his bag onto the other bed.

"Er, it's fine," I said carefully, breaking a terribly awkward silence. "I can just.. sleep on the floor, or whatever."

"Yeah. Probably a good idea," said Sam, giving me one of his pillows.

He found me a thin blanket inside one of the closets, and a couch cushion that could double as a mattress. I organized them into a small makeshift bed on the floor, chatting to the boys idly about their car. I learnt that it was a 1967 Chevy Impala, and that Dean coveted it, even going so far as to call the inanimate object his 'Baby'. Sam could hardly suppress a smirk when he told me about that.

He started laughing this rich, caramel laugh when I told him the Doctor called his time machine 'Sexy'.

"England, huh?" Dean remarked. We'd been chatting about meaningless little things, and it seemed we were moving on to the actual problem at hand. _It had to be addressed eventually,_ I thought. _Just as it always must._

"Yeah. Long way from home."

"What do you think.. caused this?" Sam asked me.

"I've got no clue!" I exclaimed. "The Doctor was just talking to me, then... poof!"

"Poof," Dean said. "Crashing our party."

I laughed. "Basically."

"Well, Dean and I thought it might have been angels."

"Why would angels, if they do exist, be interested in me? Or bringing me here?"

"Maybe they've got something against the Doctor- I mean, he is an alien!" Sam suggested.

"An alien who helps people."

"Okay, what's your explanation?" Dean asked me.

"Um," I started. This wasn't my division. "With the Doctor, when something odd happens, you don't usually question it. The Doctor explains what's happening in science-y terms, fixes the problem, and you go home happy after an adventure or two. The explanation doesn't usually fall into my hands."

"Huh," remarked Sam. "Maybe we need the Doctor."

I shook my head. "He would definitely freak out. He's not one to believe in stuff like that, though his reaction would be hilari-"

I caught my breath and the words fled from my mouth.

A man had appeared from out of nowhere, directly next to Dean. The man was ruggedly handsome, with inky black hair, clear blue eyes and stubble. He was wearing a tan-colored trench coat over a suit, with a dark navy tie.

Did I mention he was_ covered_ in blood?

"Hello, Dean," he muttered before focusing on me. Dean jumped about a foot high- he hadn't noticed the intruder. The mysterious man had a deep, gravelly voice and I didn't expect it. His clothes made his seem whimsical, but he definitely was more serious than he looked. _Just like the Doctor._

"Cas," Sam breathed. "What are you doing here?"

"Who is this girl?" Cas demanded.

"Relax," Dean said, crossing his arms. "This is our friend, Clara. Clara, this is Castiel."

"Is he an angel?" I asked incredulously. Sam nodded slowly.

"Cas, why are you covered in blood?" he questioned, gesturing to Cas' scarlet-covered coat.

"I ran into a demon in Minnesota. He didn't make it."

"Minnesota?" said Dean. "What the hell were you doing in Minnesota?"

"...Hunting demons."

"Right," I interjected. "Still new to that concept."

Castiel turned swiftly to me. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, examining me.

"You're not from around here," he exclaimed.

"Yeah, I'm.. from England."

"No, I mean, you aren't even from this universe."

So my assumptions were correct. I'd been transported to a different, maybe parallel universe. _The Doctor must be so worried..._

"Well, I was teleported right into their car," I explained. "From my house in London."

"I see." Cas squinted more than I thought possible. It was starting to get kind of creepy.

Dean coughed into the silence. "So Cas, can you.. uh.. beam her back?"

Cas put his hand on my forehead. I shuddered as some sort of energy pulsed through me. He was definitely an angel in my book now.

The angel shook his head, confusion and sorrow battling for his gaze.

"There's something wrong with you," he said solemnly, removing his hand.

I spluttered.

"_Wrong_ with me? How?"

"Something inside you.. it's blocking me. My powers cannot affect you."

_Spiffing. Absolutely splendid. I can't go back. I can never go back to my old life._

"Wait, Cas," Sam said hurriedly. "Can you even travel to other universes?"

"Um..." Cas trailed off. "I doubt it."

I buried my face in my palms, sinking down onto on of the beds. The world spun around me.

_The Doctor won't know where I am. Angie and Artie, Mr Maitland, all my friends will never see me again. All of time and space, and I'm stuck here..._

Sam sat down and put his arm around me.

"It'll be okay, Clara," he told me, squeezing my shoulder comfortingly. I smiled weakly.

"Yeah," added Dean, who stood with Cas in front of us, hands in his jacket pockets. "I'm sure we'll find some way to get you back. Maybe we'll blackmail a Djinn or something."

Suddenly, Cas jerked. My head snapped up in alarm. The angel made an incomprehensible gasping noise, his hands flying towards his ears.

Dean's eyes became panicked. "Cas? Dude, what's wrong?"

"I- I don't understand!" Cas heaved. "It's this noise-" He collapsed to the ground.

I stood up. "That's what happened to me! I heard something too!"

Dean crouched down, Cas struggling to look up at his friend.

"Cas, it's important," I said, leaning down as well. "What do you hear?"

He blinked up at me with those exotic blue eyes. "I think it's an engine, but I can't be su-" He groaned again.

Then his form flickered out.

Cas was gone.


	5. Chapter 3 point 5

_TARDIS INTERNAL CAMS 2_

The Doctor hears something and whizzes around, looking straight into the eyes of a strange man. The man's blood-covered tan trench coat settles around him.

The Doctor immediately knows the person isn't human as soon as they exchange wise, experienced looks. He knows this is a person much like himself, living and seeing the turn of the universe and hearing the roars of the stars. They both have old eyes.

They exchange greetings. The Doctor is unsure, for the first time in his life. This is not an alien. This is not a human. This is-

_What is it?_

The man explains himself as a celestial being, Castiel, but the Doctor doesn't understand or believe him. He is not one to believe in the metaphysical nor the omnipotent.

The mysterious being talks in a wonderful way, though. Formal and deep and quiet. The Doctor finds himself absorbing every word that comes out of his mouth. Then he hears the word 'Clara' float out like a wisp of smoke. It brings him back to Earth and he clings to that word, his lifeline.

Clara.

He learns she is alive and well. He learns she was taken under the wings of two men. He is reassured that the two men are trustworthy. He learns that something is amiss and people are being transported to other universes.

The man finally stops speaking and the Doctor even learns from his silence. The being radiates knowledge and burden and experience.

He is dealing with something much older than him, much wiser and more heavy with what he has lost.

How very fascinating.


	6. Chapter 4

I watched Dean stand on shaking legs.

"We really need to sort this crap out," he declared. "I mean, Cas zaps out on us regularly, but something really jacked up is happening here."

Sam turned to me. He still sat on the bed, while I was crouched near where Cas was.

"Is there any.. connection between you and Cas?" he asked. "Like, would anyone want to do something to you? Any enemies?"

I laughed. I couldn't count how many aliens I'd pissed off.

"I've gathered a lot of enemies in the past 6 months or so. But they're mostly just aliens. And one semi-sentient sex robot- but that doesn't matter."

Sam's eyes widened and he failed to suppress a grin. Dean rolled his eyes, but his green gaze sparkled with humor.

"So, no enemies you might have in common?" Dean inquired.

I shook my head. "Not that I know of."

"Well," sighed Sam. "That leaves us with jack squat."

"Yep," Dean confirmed.

"What do you think has the power to move people to different universes, though?" I questioned. "Ever met something like that?"

"Djinns can sort of _create_ parallel universes- but not really. And we can rule out angels. Other than that, nope," Dean replied dejectedly.

"Wait, what about that time with Balthazar?" Sam asked loudly, clearly having a breakthrough. "Remember, the TV show thing? Oh, and Gabriel, too- remember?"

"Oh yeah!" exclaimed Dean sarcastically. "Except.. hmm... Balthazar is dead, Gabriel is dead, angels apparently don't have alternate-universe powers anymore, and the only angel we had help from is gone!"

We sat in silence for a while, mulling over the situation.

"I think-" I started. The boys sullenly looked up at me. "I think Cas was transported to the TARDIS."

"You mean, the time machine?" Sam asked. "Your Doctor's time machine?"

"Yeah," I said. "He heard engines, and I can tell you- the TARDIS' engines are pretty loud. I mean, it's a possibility, right?"

"I guess," agreed Dean sullenly.

_He's probably still pretty torn up about Cas. They must be really good friends._

Sam grabbed his duffel bag from the floor. He pulled out a laptop and opened it.

"What's that for?" I inquired. It seemed weird to me that someone who hunted ancient, mythical creatures would use something modern like a laptop.

"Research," replied Sam, who didn't look up at me. The sounds of his keyboard filled the quiet room. He was completely focused on his computer. It didn't bother me as much as it used to- I was already used to traveling with the Doctor, who was in a codependent relationship with a screwdriver. Don't even get me started on the freaky love story he had going on with his snogbox.

Dean produced a couple of books from his bag and started flipping through one. It was titled _A Guide to Daemonic Creatures_ and the binding was starting to fall off. I immediately yearned to read it. Old books seemed lovely to me- the smell, the faded lettering, the vintage covers...

The Doctor possessed tens of thousands of both aged and futuristic books in the TARDIS' library, but I never enjoyed reading in there. I guess being chased by a burnt, zombie version of you from a parallel reality in that same library and finding out that your best friend killed his whole race in a brutal war in a book spoiled the place for me.

I internally decided that Sam and Dean were deeply antisocial people after 2 minutes had gone by without them saying a word to me.

_They may have their inside jokes with each other and have a couple of friends like Cas, but seriously? Not a word? Nothing? _

I groaned deeply, still getting no response and reluctantly curled up in my makeshift doggy-bed. The couch cushion-slash-mattress was hardly comfortable, but I was so worn out after the events of today that I dozed off after about 5 minutes of staring silently at the yellow-patterned wall. The last thing I saw before losing consciousness was Sam sneaking a look at me from behind his laptop screen.

I had a very, very strange dream.

This wasn't unusual- my travels to alien planets had really put a dark cloud over my subconscious.

But this dream was way different than my usual nightmare-rounds of cybermen and daleks.

I was in a dark, dark room. It was one of those dream rooms that was always in a state of flux- the walls moving and shifting to fit the scene. I scrabbled for a match on the ground and lit it, holding it close to me. Slowly turning around I found myself face to face with..

The Doctor. He sat in a chair a few feet away from me, tapping his long, bony fingers on the armrest. As I watched, the room slowly got brighter and brighter, so when the match finally burnt out I could still see his face. He didn't notice me sitting at his feet, he didn't notice me trying in vain to talk to him.

Then his fingers turned to skeleton bones right in front of me. I tried to scream but my mouth dried.

It was crossing into nightmare territory now, the Doctor's flesh melting off his body until he lay there, a pile of bones.

A hand grabbed me from behind and pulled me away, into another scene.

I landed in a bright room. There was the Doctor again, staring directly at me. My other dream was forgotten.

He laughed at me. It was filled with malice, anger and sarcasm. Confused, I started to back away but found I was sat on a tiny stool in the corner of the room as the Doctor loomed over me, grinning like a serial killer.

I shrieked as his usually bright, warm eyes turned coal black in an instant.

A terrifying smile crept into his face as I cowered, and a chuckle echoed through my ears as darkness took my vision once more.


	7. Chapter 5

**Just a note- Chapters will be longer from now on. Huzzah :D Major character development in this episode, but not much plot. That will resume... soon. Anyway. Happy reading!**

The light returned.

I yawned, the nightmares melting away from my mind as I sat up. Sunlight streamed through the window of the motel room, illuminating the still bodies of Sam and Dean. Hauling myself up and quickly using my fingers to brush through my messy morning hair, I checked the beaten-up clock on the nightstand, which read 6:12. Good. I loved getting up early.

As a few stray birds chirped cheerfully outside, I crept over to Sam and Dean. They were as still as rocks apart from the minuscule rising and falling of their chests. I spotted a metal glint on the floor and bent down to see Sam's treasured laptop.

It was time to do some research of my own.

The laptop didn't have a password, which I found strange. Wouldn't a man doing a lot of top-secret detective work at least protect his files?

I opened Google Chrome and impulsively checked the internet history. The results were.. weird, to say the least.

**HISTORY**

_Recently Visited:_

_Djinn_- Google Search

_Djinn Parallel Universes_- Google Search

_Parallel Universe Conspiracy Theories_- Google Search

_parallel universes and deja vu_-

_7 crazy Theories about..._ - .com

_Do We Live in the MATRIX?_ - .com

_Clara ozwald_- Google Search

_Tarrdis_- Google Search

_Doctor, Timelord_- Google Search

Results like this continued. Fortunately (or unfortunately) Sam didn't seem to find anything at all about me or the Doctor, possibly because he had no idea how to spell. He also didn't have much luck with the alternate universe thing either.

I was just typing 'sam winchester' into the search bar when I heard Dean mumble in his sleep. I jumped and warily closed the laptop, putting it right back where it was. Good thing I did, because just a few seconds after, Dean awoke, sitting up and grinning at me cheekily, sleep clouding his forest-filled eyes.

"Mornin', Princess," he mumbled gruffly, rubbing at his eyes. I smiled. From the other bed, I heard a shuffling and a lion's roar of a yawn. Sam was awake.

I realized I was still in the same clothes as yesterday, and that I had nothing else to change into. _Ah well. It's not like they mind._

Sam's hazel eyes were unfocused- he was clearly not a morning person. Reluctantly, he sat up, stretching his distractingly muscular arms. He was wearing a white vest top and jeans, which didn't seem like very comfortable pajamas to me, although I _did _sleep in a dress.

"So what's the plan for today?" I asked slowly, averting my eyes from Sam's bulging biceps.

"No clue," Dean said. He got out of bed, revealing he was still in the same black shirt and jeans as yesterday.

"Maybe we'll do more research on your little, uh, _problem_, go into town later on, perhaps devise a plan," Sam added. He unzipped his duffel bag and found a red plaid shirt stuffed at the bottom, which he put on, taking his time with the buttons.

"Okay," I said. My stomach rumbled and I grimaced. "Hey, is there any food here?"

Dean looked around, taking inventory of the room. I'd checked- there wasn't a minibar. "Nah. I'll go and get some stuff from Denny's or something."

I didn't know what a_'Denny's_' was, but I guessed it wasn't a good place, as Sam didn't look impressed with that idea. "Dean, go to the _grocery store_ and get some cereal. Seriously."

Dean put up his hands in a mock surrender. "Alright, alright, you healthy freak."

He slipped into his aged leather jacket and waved goodbye before closing the door behind him. And just like that, I was alone with Sam.

I coughed. "Soooo..."

_Awkward. I really need to work on talking to people other than the Doctor._

I started again. "What's hunting like?"

I mentally slapped myself. _Bad move, Clara. Bad, bad move. Why'd you ask _that_?_

"Urm," Sam said quietly, squirming. "I'm not gonna sugarcoat it for you. It's pretty violent. You gotta kill a lot of people. Sometimes they're your friends. I don't know, I grew up with it. After a while... the deaths don't really bother you. It used to eat me up inside, to kill, but now? Offing a monster.. it's satisfying. Like, avenging the deaths. Um, it's not a good life."

"Oh."

It was the only thing I could say. I couldn't imagine what it was like. I could never relate.

"So, uh, what's it like, traveling with the Doctor?" Sam questioned after a few moments of silence.

"It's wonderful," I gushed before I could stop myself. "You get to see so much and meet so many people. The running alone is just exhilarating. You really see the good in the universe. There are the deaths, and the monsters, but there is so much _hope_, with the Doctor. He is such a huge part of my life now, and I can't imagine a life without him, to be honest."

Sam was smiling now. His lips spread into a goofy grin.

"I have to say, I'm jealous."

I grimaced. I was at a loss for words once again. Not many people could do that to me.

Luckily, the overbearing silence was interrupted by Sam's phone ringing. It chimed brightly from the bedside table. Sam grabbed it.

"Hello?"

_'It's Dean'_, he mouthed at me, frowning. I could just about hear his brother's voice on the other line, but couldn't make out what he was saying.

I watched Sam sigh and cross his arms. He turned to me, holding the phone away from his ear.

"Dean wants to know what cereal he should get," he told me, exasperated.

I shrugged. "Cornflakes are fine by me."

Sam put the phone back to his ear.

"Clara says cornflakes." There was a brief pause. "No, Dean, pie is _not_ a acceptable breakfast food!"

Giggling, I let the boys argue, swinging my legs off the edge of Dean's mussed-up bed.

Sam and Dean seemed like decent people, but underneath the mask of humor and purpose, I could detect a layer of mental damage. Growing up with hunting couldn't have been good for their personal development. Sometimes I could see Sam staring at nothing for prolonged amounts of time, and Dean's Cupid's-bow lips would quiver, accompanied by shaking hands and dark circles. Their lives were more way more complicated than I'd originally thought.

After about a minute of friendly bantering about whether whole-wheat bread or apple pie was better for your health, Sam put down the phone and sat opposite me. I was still staring at him, trying to figure him out.

"What are you looking at?" he chuckled.

"Huh?" I snapped out of it. "Oh, nothing. Doesn't matter."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Sam smirked. I stuck my tongue out.

For the next ten minutes, we talked about stupid, meaningless topics to take our minds off things.

"What's your favorite band?" I questioned.

"Uh, I don't have one. I don't really get to listen to my own music in Dean's car," he laughed.

"Really? Huh. Well, for future reference, mine is Muse."

"Cool."

"I know, right? Anyway, ever been to England?"

"Went to Scotland once. Desecrated a fake grave."

"I'm not even gonna ask. Eh, the country's going downhill anyway. You can never tell what the economy is gonna do in Europe!"

"Well, on the topic of foreign politics, what do you- I mean, what _did_ you think of Dick Roman?"

"Who's he?"

"You've never heard of Dick Roman?"

"Erm.. no... Funny name, though."

"I guess there weren't any Leviathans in your universe!"

"Still not gonna ask."

After a while, I started to get a feel for who Sam was. Not a hunter. Not a brother. Just a little boy who grew up way too fast.

He likes the color indigo. His guilty pleasure is Top 40 pop music. He sleeps with one pillow. He loves dogs. Dean's his best friend. He took up knitting once, to his father's dismay.

I was in the middle of telling Sam about my secret passion for designing dresses when I heard a tapping noise on the window. I got up and meandered to the windowsill to see what it was. Seeing nothing but the parking lot outside the motel, I turned around and walked straight into Sam's chest.

Shocked, he toppled over. I was lying spreadeagled on top of him while he squirmed.

"Oops!" I exclaimed. "I'm so sorry- I just-"

Dean chose that _exact _moment to saunter through the door carrying three bags of groceries.

His eyes widened as he watched us awkwardly fumbling around on the floor.

"You guys need some.. alone time or something?" Dean remarked, laughing at our plight. I pushed myself away from Sam and got up from the ground, brushing myself off.

"Sorry about that. I just.. um.. tripped," I mumbled, embarrassed.

"Riiiight," said Dean, winking cheekily at Sam, who stood next to me with his arms crossed. Sam rolled his eyes.

"So, breakfast?" I asked, suddenly reminded of the hollowness in my stomach. I looked at what Dean was holding- 3 bags of food filled to the brim.

"Uh, I didn't know what to get," said Dean. "So I just got everything."

I started to laugh. _What a dork._


	8. Chapter 6

After a nourishing breakfast of cornflakes, something called a 'Pop Tart' and chocolate milk straight out of the jug, Dean had finally gotten over the falling-over fiasco.

"So what's next?" I asked, brushing crumbs off my dress.

"I think we should go into town," replied Sam. "You obviously need to buy more clothes if you're gonna.. you know.. stay with us. And you should get a phone."

"Alright," I agreed. "Where are we, anyway?"

Dean looked up from his book. "We're in Lusk, Wyoming. I checked the sign when I pulled in to the store. Population of about 2000. It's not very exciting, to be honest. It's in the middle of the Mid-West of America."

"Ah."

Suddenly, Dean's phone rang. I recognized the tune of some Led Zeppelin song that my dad probably listened to.

He picked up the phone. "Yo."

There was a brief pause.

"Kevin? Dude, chill. You're gonna be okay. Look, Crowley's not really there, he can't be. It's in your head, remember?"

I heard frantic screaming from the other end.

"Whoa, Kevin! Chill, dude. Alright, alright. We're coming. Yeah, I'll bring supplies. Okay, bye."

Dean hung up.

"Who was that?" I inquired, concerned.

"Kevin Tran," he answered. "He's our friend, and I think he's having a mental breakdown. Sorry, Clara, you're not gonna be able to go shopping today. We've gotta go to Missouri."

"_Missouri_?"

"Yeah. Sorry. It's about an 11 hour drive from here, I think. We should get there in 6."

"Woah, wait a second!" I exclaimed. "We're just going to leave?"

"Pretty much," Dean answered, shrugging. "We've gone farther for less."

"It's true," Sam admitted. "Plus, we should check on Kevin. See if he's translated anything yet."

"Translated?"

"Kevin is a prophet," Sam explained. "He can read the word of God, so he's working on translating these tablets for us, in case there's something useful in them."

I wasn't surprised at anything anymore. "Cool."

The boys started to gather up their belongings while I sat in the corner, playing with my mum's rings. _God, I miss her._

I wondered briefly what Sam and Dean's parents were like. Judging by their current states and the tiny fragments of family history I'd gotten from Sam, I decided I didn't want to know.

The three of us were somber as we finally exited the room. Pale sunlight filtered through the brooding clouds and a cool autumn breeze floated by us. I tried to copy the way Sam and Dean walked, all tough and manly, but gave up after I realized I looked like I was imitating the Incredible Hulk.

All of a sudden, I began to hear something.

It was different to the deafening sound of Metallica, but it was there. It was pleasant sounding, and I couldn't quite make out the words that were being said.

I stopped in the middle of the parking lot as Sam and Dean were opening the trunk of their car.

Sam looked back at me. "Clara?"

I was being called somewhere. It was important. Very important.

_Clara. You need to go. NOW._

I started to run.

For what seemed like forever, I followed the voices. I tore through the avenues of the town without even looking at the stores. I hopped a fence, ripping some of my dress. I raced through crowds of people and, strangely, never ran out of breath. What was even stranger was the fact that the Winchesters never caught up to me, though I knew they were following me.

I finally reached a field. The grass was bone-dry and the trees were stumpy, without leaves, and it was completely silent. I stopped, but the voices didn't cease.

_Clara. Dig. _

I dropped to the ground and began to scrabble through the red dirt. My pink nail polish peeled off but I didn't care. This is the most important thing I will ever do.

Dean and Sam finally caught up, panting. Pausing from my work, I looked up at them, smiling slightly.

Sam furrowed his brow. "Clara, what the hell was that?"

I didn't answer, still digging. Sam bent down beside me. He waved his hand across my face but I swatted it away, completely focused on my task.

"You okay?" Dean asked. He kept on pestering me.

"Clara, what are you doing?"

"What are you digging for?"

He even knocked on my head. "Anyone in there?"

I dug on. _Keep going. It's important. _

"OUCH!" I shrieked as sharp burning pain shook me. Something hot was trickling down my arm and I swiveled around, eyes wide and heart pounding.

Dean was crouching beside me, holding a silver knife which was lined in red. Alarmed, I glanced at my arm, which had a thin and stinging cut on it.

"Dean, what the hell?" I yelled furiously. He backed away slowly. A gave him my most vengeful glare before slapping him in the face. He rubbed his cheek but didn't say anything.

_Wait a minute... what am I doing here? Why am I digging?_ I thought, confused.

"Clara," Sam said calmly. "What's going on?"

"I don't- I, uh, have no idea. It was like I was possessed..."

The brothers narrowed their eyes in sync. _Oh, right._ _Demons. Was it demons?_

"But it wasn't a demon!" I reassured them. "I could think, and stuff. I was just.. overcome by something."

"Right," said Dean, crossing his arms.

We stared at the spot where I started digging. I'd scooped out a very small, shallow hole, but it was a start.

"Do you think we should keep digging?" I asked. "See if there's anything actually there?"

"Yeah, alright," Sam answered, producing a sharp-edged trowel from one of his pockets. When he saw me smirking, he claimed, "Everyone should carry around a trowel in case of emergencies!"

Dean laughed until Sam elbowed him in the crotch._ Ouch. _

The sun beat down on our backs as we sat in the field, watching Sam do his work. Pretty soon, though, he hit something hard.

"Jackpot."

After a bit of maneuvering, Sam lifted a wooden box out of the crumbling ground. The container was quite large, about the size of a pillow. It was plain, without adornments, except for one odd rune engraved on the top in the shape of a curly hourglass. The wood was a rich, molasses brown, and it didn't look like it'd ever been in the ground at all.

"What is it?" I inquired as Sam lifted the latch on the box and peered inside.

"Oh, crap," Sam breathed.

"What?" demanded Dean.

"It's another tablet."

By the time we got back to the car, which took _ages _due to my earlier running around being possessed, Sam and Dean had explained to me what a tablet was and the ones they'd encountered before. They were basically helpful hints from God to mankind concerning monsters. I didn't really see why it was a bad thing, but apparently it was 'just one more thing to worry about'.

Luckily, we were going to see Kevin, the prophet and translator of the tablets, so we'd get some answers soon.

We sped away from Lusk, Wyoming at around 3 in the afternoon. I rolled down the window and the rushing of the wind in my face and the glint of sunlight reflected off the lakes passing by blurred out the brothers' conversation about something-or-other. Forests, mountains and plains of yellow grass flew by_. America is actually really beautiful._

The box containing the mysterious tablet was securely fastened into the seat next to me. Curious, having never actually seen the thing, I quietly opened the container and cautiously took out the slab of rock.

It was cold, like metal, and sent shivers up my spine. A strange, ancient language was imprinted into it, which annoyed me because I was used to having the TARDIS translate alien languages for me. I guessed it didn't work in different universes.

But as I squinted at the tablet, I noticed something, in the corner of my eye.

Letters were forming.

"Oh... my... God.." I whispered. Sam turned and looked at me quizzically.

"I think I can read this," I said.

"What does it say?" Dean asked gruffly.

"Um... Time Lord."


	9. Chapter 6 point 5

_TARDIS INTERNAL CAMS 3_

The Doctor and Castiel get along swimmingly.

They shouldn't do, but who cares?

They are planning. Castiel can't get back to his world by himself, and the Doctor can't fly the TARDIS into another universe just like that. It would never work.

Their shared genius is astounding, really. They know so much between the two of them and it won't take long to figure out how to get Clara back and bring Cas home.

So they brainstorm. For hours and hours and hours they sit on the floor of the console room tossing ideas into the thin sliver of air between them. They debate everything.

Then the Doctor comes up with something brilliant.

He pirouettes around the room like a madman, his ridiculous hair bouncing. He sets his course for Cardiff, Wales as a pitstop, and his grin takes up the whole of his rectangular face.

Cas is thoroughly confused. What_ is_ so important about a city in Wales?

A couple of minutes later, the TARDIS' engines are full and Cas understands. The Doctor wants Castiel to lend some of his grace to the TARDIS, which will give her enough residual energy to get them across the Void and into Castiel's universe.

Castiel is very, very unsure and possibly unwilling, but the Doctor is a genius. Though he's not sure why, he trusts the alien man with his life. The only other person he would ever trust like that is Dean and he's not one to hold his heart in his hands.

They land in Cardiff, the Doctor weaving a complicated dance around his beloved machine. Cas is still sitting on the blue metal ground, breathing the air of a different universe and hoping he'll get back soon. He's not one to get stuck places. He's a gust of wind in an oceanic storm, a raven with wings spread. Always escaping, always flying away... He doesn't notice when they take off again until the Doctor tells him.

He then also tells Cas what to do.

"So, _Castiel_, in order to merge your grace with the TARDIS' sentience, we'll have to open..." The Doctor yanks on the edge of the console. "This. Well, it's supposed to open."

Cas pushes him aside and easily opens the hatch.

But everything goes white and gold. Cas sees time itself and everything that could happen and the entire universe is whizzing about in his head.

He shivers and his hands stiffen. He contracts in pain but still stands, wanting and hoping.

_Universe. A universe alight. Power, so MUCH power. More than before. More than an angel, more than a God. Galaxies exploding, Earth and Heaven rising, Hell crushed and blinded by light. Sun, Moon, Stars, Dean, TARDIS, Milky Way, Sam, Doctor, Seven Systems of Kasterborous, Lucifer, Pluto, Dean, TARDIS, _**_time..._**

Cas is in control.

The walls of worlds crack and shatter.

They fly.


	10. Chapter 7

**Yo, author here! Introducing some new characters in this chapter, from Percy Jackson, Doctor Who, Sherlock and Supernatural. (I bet you thought this would be a sweet and simple SuperWho fic.. well, whatever.) Luckily, I don't think you need to know all of the characters in this to get what's going on. If you don't, just PM me and I'll explain! :) Happy reading!**

I fell asleep onto the tablet. It wasn't a very comfortable pillow, but after three hours of sitting in a car, staring at a slab of rock with some engravings on it, and trying to translate said engravings into English, I was utterly exhausted. I hadn't even translated much- just some scattered words here and there- 13, Gallifreyan Council, apples.. _Actually, I think I got that one wrong._

Luckily, this time when I went to sleep, I didn't have any crazy nightmares. I just dreamt I was having a picnic with Sam and Dean on a beach with sunshine yellow sand and water the acidic turquoise blue color of Borax® brand dishwashing fluid.

We saw an astronaut emerge from the lake and I was just about to greet it when it started shooting at us. We ran into a truck and started to drive away...

I woke only when Sam gently shook me out of my drowsiness. He reached from the passenger seat all the way back to me, gripping onto my shoulder with firm hands.

"Are we there yet?" I asked blearily, brushing my fingers through my sleep-tangled hair.

"Yeah," Sam said, retracting his arm. Groaning, I got out of the car and slammed the door, delicately holding the precious tablet.

"What time is it?"

"About 11."

It was pitch black out. Well, it would be, but lights glowed along the dock. We had driven to a marina in the middle of Missouri, where, according to the boys, Kevin lived in a safe-houseboat. I couldn't see very much of the boat itself, but I could make out the words _Fizzles' Follies_ painted on the back. It seemed like a large and rusty shell to me, and I didn't know why anyone would choose to live in such a place.

I was excited to meet Kevin, though. Another prophet! _Maybe we'll become best friends and help each other out with translations and stuff..._

Then I remembered why we were there in the first place. Kevin was a schizophrenic, depressed, damaged man who had trust issues.

_I really need to be more realistic._

We clambered up the steps to the front door, careful to avoid the gaping hole between the boat and the stairs. Dean rapped on the door once, then five times, then twice. I supposed it was some sort of secret knock.

But nothing happened. The lights weren't even on.

"Maybe he's asleep," I suggested warily.

"No way," Dean said. "That kid works from 7 am to 3 am every single day, no breaks, no exceptions."

He then tried to bust down the door, but it was made out of solid metal- it wouldn't budge.

"Kevin!" Sam yelled, ramming his fists into the door. "Kevin, you in there?"

I slipped under Sam's outstretched arms and tried the handle. The door eased open.

"How'd you do that?" Dean inquired, looking at me like I was the next Einstein.

"Um, it wasn't locked."

"Right."

Smirking, I led the way inside. It was dark, but as my eyes adjusted I saw basic furniture; tables, chairs, a fridge. It was rusty on the inside as well as the outside, which was concerning. I wrinkled my nose as the scents of iron and sulfur overwhelmed me.

A figure stood before us. He was short but built, wearing a well-fitting black suit. His face was shadowed.

"Kevin?" Sam called out, sounding unsure of himself.

The figure snapped his fingers. The lights fizzled on, sparking a little. The man was dashing, with faint stubble and a smirk to end all smirks. It definitely wasn't Kevin, whom the brothers had described as young and asian.

"'Ello, boys," the man purred. He was British, surprisingly. He then fixed his chocolatey eyes onto me. "And.. a girl. Clara, isn't it?"

"How do you know my name?" I demanded.

"Relax," the man said. "My name is Crowley. And I was the one who brought you here. Well, not really me, per se, I had help, but my point still stands."

"Where's Kevin?" Sam shouted, clearly distressed by the appearance of Crowley. He reached forward and guided me behind him, protecting me, or something. I shoved him off. _I don't need protecting._

"Oh, don't worry, your precious prophet is safe. And if he isn't, I've got plenty of others to choose from."

"What do you mean?" asked Dean, who was reaching into his jacket pocket for something. _Probably a gun. Or a knife._

Crowley laughed. "Oh, you haven't figured out my master plan? This universe is a little low on prophets. There is, of course, only one in every universe. So I got some angels in my possession. They know of all prophets, in all universes, so they transport them to this particular version of Earth. Then I collect the prophets and make them translate the tablets for me, which I use for my own purposes. It's simple enough. But you know what's really great about this whole thing?"

"What?" snapped Sam, his usually curious hazel eyes now cold and calculating.

"I got three for the price of one- I was just following Clara, but I got you two knuckleheads as well! What a steal! We'll have you two locked away, because it's really quite annoying, how you keep killing my kind."

I was still confused. "So how many prophets do you have?"

"About five or six. Why is that important, darling?"

I shrugged. "Just wondering. How many tablets do you have?"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Four. Leviathan, demon, angel, demigod. Just got that one this week. Look, we can chat after you're safely behind bars, alright?"

_Click._

He snapped his fingers and the world dissolved into red smoke.

"Hello?_ Hello?_ Are you alright?"

Gasping, I sat up, instinctively gripping tightly onto the Time Lord tablet, which was still in my arms. _Where am I?_

I was in a large room. There were 4 bunk-beds at the back, unoccupied at the moment. There was also a door at the back that presumably led to a bathroom. The walls were white and gleaming, but they were stuck with hundreds of post-it notes. It kind of looked like a large classroom, if not for the prison bars that replaced the door. There were a few desks scattered around the room, which were covered in paper and notebooks. I counted four stone tablets like mine.

I was on the ground, looking up at five other people who were either sitting at paper-covered desks or standing over me.

Standing over me were two teenage girls. One was curvy and Latina, with soft brown hair and dark eyes. The other was lanky, with wild red hair and freckles, her jeans covered in pen doodles.

"Are you alright?" the Latina one pressed, eyes full of concern.

"Yeah, I.. I think I'm fine," I mumbled.

At the desks sat three men, all staring at me. One was young and asian, fitting the descriptions of Kevin Tran.

The one next to him was skinny and had sticky-uppy brown hair, wearing a maroon t-shirt and converse. He had rectangular glasses on, which suited his pointy face.

The other one was older, but still pretty attractive. His silvery hair was balding and his fox-like features morphed into a smirk. His fancy suit was dusty but I could tell he liked to keep up appearances.

I got up, dusting off my dress, extending my hand. "I'm Clara Oswald. Who are you?"

The redhead grinned, shaking my hand firmly. "I'm Rachel, Rachel Elizabeth Dare. This is Gloria Ramirez," she said, pointing at the Latina girl.

"Kevin Tran," said the Asian man without looking up from his notebook. So I was right. It was him.

"Name's Lestrade," declared the gray-haired man. "Greg Lestrade. Detective Inspector of Scotland Yard." He was British, as well!_ Has England invaded or something?_

"Detective Inspector... really?"

"In the flesh."

Finally I turned to the man with glasses. "And you are?"

"The Doctor. _Just_ the Doctor."

_What?_

"That's not possible," I breathed. "You can't be him."

"Well, I'm not, not really. Wait, how do you know him?"

"I'm his..."

_Girlfriend? Acquaintance? Partner in crime?_

".. Companion."

"Ah. Right. My future, can be tricky. I'm not really him. Human metacrisis version. Different universe, y'know."

"Um, okay..." I mumbled. _Information overload much?_ "Where am I, anyway?"

"We're... well, I don't know. We're prisoners," Rachel answered sullenly. "We were taken by some guy called Crowley, apparently because we're 'prophets of the Lord'. We're being made to translate these tablets... but if you're here, you already know that."

Reluctantly, I took out the Time Lord tablet from under my arm.

"I.. found this."

"Yeah? I found one too. Demigod tablet. As if I didn't know enough about demigods already! What's yours about?" Rachel inquired, her green eyes wide, seeking knowledge.

"Wait, demigods?"

"Yep. My universe has loads of them. I'm their.. prophet, so to speak. Well I was, until I was sent here. I landed in a motel room in Kansas, where I stayed, until I found my tablet and Crowley came looking for me. I managed to hit him in the nuts with my hairbrush before he got me," she stated proudly.

"Okay... Mine is about Time Lords. I haven't translated much yet. Wait, why are you translating them? Why don't you just... not? Can't we rebel or something?"

Rachel's eyes darkened. "You get taken to a Time Out room. Crowley himself interrogates you. It's not fun, trust me." I noticed her entire hand was rudimentarily bandaged- I decided I really did _not_ want to go the the Time Out room.

"So, welcome to your new life, Clara," Gloria muttered bitterly. "Oh, and Crowley expects a certain amount of it translated every day, so you'd better get started soon. Dinner's in an hour, and lights out is at 3:45. Wake up call's at 6. Good luck."


	11. Chapter 8

**Wow, I haven't updated in ages. Over a week! Really really sorry about that. The return of school plus the new Sherlock season equals ZERO productivity. Anyway, hope you enjoy this late late late chapter!**

One laborious hour later, I had gotten used to it.

The Doctor had always admired my 'adaptability' to certain situations, namely getting captured, which had happened a couple of times on our ventures to alien planets. After spending just 20 minutes chatting to everyone, I found out everything I had to know about this place.

Kevin was working on the angel tablet with Greg- they were about half finished with it. They seemed quite grumpy when I pulled them away from their work, so I tried to keep my questions brief. They barely answered anyway, mumbling something-or-other about getting back to work.

Sighing, I turned to Gloria and 'the Doctor', who were apparently trying to translate the demon tablet. They didn't seem to be getting anywhere, though. Gloria rubbed her temples as the Doctor absentmindedly played with his gravity-defying hair.

"So how's it going? I asked quietly. The Doctor smiled absently and patted the seat next to him.

"Not_ that_ good. We've gotten about halfway through, but we're stuck on this one part about souls and heaven or something. Wait, just a sec." The eccentric man tapped his forehead and scribbled something down on a scrap of notebook paper. It read 'INNOCENT SOUL'. Deciding not to ask what the Hell that meant, I went on with my makeshift interview.

"What's it like here? I guess you're- I mean, _we_'re slaves, yeah?"

"It's actually not as bad as you expect," Gloria said timidly. "I mean, the hours are long and Crowley's a tyrant, but we stick together. The work is... sort of satisfying, y'know? To finish a section of your tablet is like finishing a chapter of a novel."

"The food's alright as well," the Doctor added enthusiastically. "Nutritious. Crowley can't afford to have any of us starve to death, now, can he? And the beds are extraordinarily comfy for a prison cell- and I would know. An-"

"Doctor!" I interrupted. He grinned toothily.

"You called me Doctor."

"Shut up."

After mindlessly chatting about the sodium daily percentage in the tater tots served on Wednesdays, the Doctor asked to see the Time Lord tablet. Given that he was sort of a Time Lord, I complied.

After struggling to force it out of my iron grip, I very carefully passed it to him. His brown eyes widened as he scanned over the stone block, his fingers tapping out a rhythm on the table.

"I have to take this," he announced suddenly. "You.. ah... work on the demon tablet with Gloria. Can't have Time Lord secrets falling into the wrong hands, now, can we?" He sat down at another table, grabbing a pen and paper before I could protest.

Now that the tablet was out of my arms, I felt slightly better, less pressured, but I was a little shellshocked. Tablets do weird things to you, and I'd become attached to the thing. Smiling pleasantly at Gloria nevertheless, I switched my focus to the demon tablet.

_o-o-o-o-o_

Sam woke to chafing cloth and darkness.

He was crudely blindfolded, lying on a cold metal floor. He didn't seem to be tied up for once, which was a relief. Wriggling to a sitting position, he ripped off the rag they'd fastened to his eyes, only to be greeted by the strangest scene he'd ever witnessed.

The first thing he noticed was Dean ramming his shoulder into a heavy metal door. They were in a cell, with three beds and a simple toilet. There were small slits in the door, possibly to look through. Just like a regular American prison,

Wait... three beds?

He slowly turned his head to the left, eyes widening.

_That's not possible. He's dead. _

Lying on a bed, pointy chin framed by his hands, was the angel Gabriel, smirk and all.

A thin golden chain wove around his wrists, and he had a huge black eye. His entire forehead was covered by a bandage. He looked... emaciated. Tortured, maybe.

Sam was stunned into paralysis.

"Uh... how are you..."

"Alive?" the trickster angel guessed wryly. "It's a long story, involving three cans of Coke, a pinch of magic and the combined energy of a supernova. Oh, and a pocket watch. The pocket watch was the most important part."

Sam cocked one eyebrow. "Really?"

"No," Gabriel sighed, running his nimble fingers through his lank hair. "I tricked Lucifer, okay? It was easy. Just a matter of a body double and a fake wing print. But I had to stay underground- Luci would've actually killed me if he knew I was alive. Thanks for, you know, letting him possess you and running into the cage, and stuff. Then there was that drama with Castiel and Raphy- had to keep myself outta that, obviously. But Crowley found me in the end. Beaten by a demon.. should've known!"

Sam tried to look sympathetic, he really did. But he could never forgive Gabriel for what he did- killing Dean over and over again was just one more emotionally traumatizing event in his life.

Dean had since ceased his assault on the door. He stalked over to Sam, green eyes narrowed in anger.

"Finally awake, Sleeping Beauty? I've been trying to get out of here for hours- and Gabriel here has not been any help whatsoever."

Gabriel smirked, holding up his hands. The golden cuffs glinted in the flickering fluorescent light. "Chains. I can't do anything. No magic allowed. And let me tell you, however strong you are, you won't be able to break down that door."

"Wait, why are you here, Gabe?" Sam asked. "What does Crowley want with you?"

"Prophets," the archangel answered simply. "It's all he ever talks about. Prophets, prophets, prophets. As an archangel with sometimes multi-universal power, I know about all the prophets, everywhere. And by everywhere, I mean everywhere. Every universe. There are millions of prophets, billions, who'll be activated as soon as they get here. Through some wacko torture methods, Crowley makes me transport them here so that he can 'collect' them to be his personal translators..."

"Like Clara," Sam commented.

"Clara Oswald?" Gabriel inquired. "She's a prophet, yes. One of the first that I located. How do you know about her?"

"She was transported into our car," Dean said. "Did you have something to do with that?"

"Maybe." Gabriel grinned cheekily.

There was a sudden knock on the door.

"Gabriel!" a singsong voice demanded. "Time for your daily session!"

The angel froze. "Not again..." he mumbled, seemingly terrified. His hands went to his bandaged forehead.

The door swung open. A cute teenaged girl stood at the doorway, dressed in a nurse's outfit. She held a long needle in her hand, filled with a toxic green liquid.

Sam and Dean ran at her desperately, but she simply raised her hand. The brothers were forced against the wall, grunting. _A demon... of course she's a demon_, Sam thought. _The cute ones always are._

The girl stalked into the cell, swinging her hips. She grabbed Gabriel by the hem of his shirt and dragged him, kicking and screaming out of the cell.

When the door closed, Sam and Dean fell the the ground. Rubbing his back, Sam pounded at the door with all his strength, to no avail.

After who-knows-how-long, they heard distant screaming through the door. It was definitely Gabriel. The brothers somberly talked about what they had found out, but soon they became silent. Time became meaningless.

Suddenly Sam heard something. Something that sounded like.. engines.

He rushed towards the door and peered through the slit in the metal.

"Uh...Dean!" he called.

His brother looked up from the bit of floor he was focused on- that's how bored he was- and ran to see what was happening.

Outside, in the corridor, something was materializing. It was big, box-shaped and the bluest of blues...

The TARDIS. It had finally come back for them.


	12. Chapter 9

The box landed with a noise like no other. Booming, wheezing, groaning...

An odd golden light shone through the windows, and Sam could just about hear something... it was faint, but he was sure someone was singing.

The footsteps of the demon guards echoed through the hall, and Gabriel's incessant screaming had stopped. Sam saw Crowley himself racing towards the alien object. It was hard to see through the barred window, but Sam was sure that the King of Hell looked... scared. _That's not something you see every day._

The door swung open with a creak and light flooded the corridor like a tidal wave. Instinctively Sam closed his eyes. The singing Sam heard earlier was amplified and it filled the space with a haunting, high melody. His heart started to ache and swell to the crescendos and diminuendos.

Cas stood, alone, in front of Crowley and the growing army of demons. He was silhouetted by a cascade of molten starlight spilling out of the box behind him like a dam had broken. Tendrils of pure power snaked out and in, out and in, pulsing to the beat of a heart. The angel's eyes glowed with golden rage.

"Castiel?" Crowley whimpered.

"The demon king." Cas' voice was all wrong. It was smoother, more melodic, higher in pitch. It made Sam uncomfortable, but his face was glued to the door in desperation. "Cease and you will walk freely."

Crowley narrowed his eyes in defeat and snapped his fingers. And snapped his fingers again. And again. Bewildered by his lack of power, the demon froze.

"I am the Bad Wolf, life force of the TARDIS, eye of Time and Space. I am also Castiel, Angel of the Lord, savior of humanity and protector of prophets. You cannot escape me. I hold the past and the future in my hands. You will stop this or I will split the atoms in your body in half one by one."

Crowley simply laughed, but his facade was breaking apart.

"Look, Cas, or Bad Wolf, or whatever- I'm not going to stop my prophet education program. Kill me, if you really want to, but there is no way you can get to the Word of God and its prophets without-"

Cas answered by raising his hand, very slowly and pointedly. A blinding white light shot out from his palms. Sam and Dean quickly shut their eyes as to not be blinded by his grace. When their gaze returned to the situation at hand, the hundred-or-so demon guards had vanished, leaving only small piles of dust. Crowley stood alone and terrified, frantically looking around for backup.

"I stripped away their atoms from their damned souls and cast them into the Void. Now, King of Hell. _Will. You. Cease._"

With the last three words Cas stepped forward, with godly rage. Sam was truly afraid of the usually docile angel- it reminded him of the whole leviathan fiasco when Cas became a deity.

Suddenly Cas flickered- literally. The light pulsing out from his body faltered. The angel became confused, looking down upon himself.

"I- I don't understand.."

The light came back. And went out. On and off and on and off. Cas became steadily more confused, trying and trying to regain control. Sam felt Dean stiffen beside him.

"You okay?" Sam muttered without looking at his distressed brother.

"Yeah," Dean replied, his voice rough with empathy. "But Cas isn't."

The sound of Crowley's nervous laughter echoed through the metal walls.

"Running low on God-juice, are we, Cassie?"

There was more darkness falling than light now.

"I can't- there's so much- so _much_-" It was Cas' regular voice, deep and scared. Sam watched in horror as Cas sunk slowly to the ground, blinking and gasping in shock. His eyes still shone unnaturally gold.

This proved to be too much for Dean.

"Cas!" he yelled in desperation, straining his cracking voice. It wasn't a plea for help. It was just a shot in the dark, a second of pure emotion channeled into one single scream.

Cas's head whipped around to face the unmarked prison cell door. Pain shadowing his gaze, he shot one final burst of power towards them from his shaky hands before collapsing.

The door was blasted open before Dean or Sam could say or do anything more.

"Go!" heaved Cas, while Crowley stalked towards him. But the fallen angel wasn't looking at the Winchesters, who had burst out of the room immediately. He was facing the TARDIS. A figure stumbled out of the glowing machine, heaving, its clothing ripped. The person ran for its life, grabbing the shocked brothers by their wrists and pulling them along with him.

**o-o-o-o**

I grunted with frustration as my migraine worsened by the second. Struggling to keep my eyes open, I forced myself to stare at the tablet for a few more seconds before burying my face in my hands again.

I had translated about a sentence in an hour. One freaking sentence. Gloria was a little bit better than me at it, given she'd had more practice at it, but even she was getting cabin fever in the enclosed room. Shivering under the constantly chilling air con, I squinted at the foreign letters and scribbled down pictograms, still not making sense of the words. I shuddered as the tablet's contents swam in my red, sleep-deprived eyes, forming into legible stone words. I was able to jot down the words 'unto Hell' before my concentration broke, and my temporary power washed away.

I groaned and closed my eyes, rocking my chair back. Gloria patted my arm sympathetically. She was a girl of little words, which was comforting sometimes. Sighing exaggeratedly, I turned back to my work.

I had translated about a sentence- it was a very long sentence, but still. Paired with what the other Doctor had done previously, my scattered notes read 'An innocent soul must be rescued from Hell and returned unto Heaven.' I read it over a few times, my messy handwriting a welcome change from the stress-inducing tablet language. Deciding that it still made no sense after a few minutes of mulling it over, I decided to stretch my legs.

I paced around the entrance, a cold metal door with a few slots in it to look out of. I was curious, so obviously I peered through the holes-

_Wait a minute._

"Aren't there supposed to be guards here?" I asked, turning my head to face the others, all absorbed in their tasks.

Greg raised his head, speaking in a lazy, gruff tone. "Yeah, there's always about 15 out there. Why, have they gone?"

"Yeah," I said quietly. "The guards aren't there."

Rachel Dare stood up, excitement shining in her eyes. "Can we leave? Can we go home?"

"I don't think so," muttered Kevin huskily. It was the first time he'd spoken in hours and I really didn't appreciate his grim tone. "Demons are powerful; even if they're gone, we'll still be stopped."

"Blimey," the other Doctor, who was pasting post-it-notes on the wall, interjected. "You're a cheery one."

"I'm just being realistic," Kevin argued.

I turned away from their banter, rubbing my temples. I glanced through the bars one last time, just to check, but what I saw didn't make sense. In the distance, near the back of the infinitely long corridor, three men were running for their lives. One in plaid, one in a leather jacket.. and one in a ripped-up purple tweed coat. All of them making their ways towards us.

_Oh my God. _

"Guys..." I murmured, shocked. No one heard me. "Guys!" I yelled. Their heads snapped in my general direction.

"We're being rescued."


	13. Chapter 10

The boys ran closer and closer. The prophets all stood up simultaneously after I told them what was about to happen, and I didn't really know what to do. I couldn't unlock the door from the inside, and Sam and Dean couldn't bust it open, and-

_Duh!_ I'd forgotten about the Doctor and his technology. Weird how things like a sonic screwdriver slip your mind.

As our rescue became an actually tangible possibility, the others frantically packed up their stuff. Kevin carefully but quickly picked off all the post-it-notes from the wall and stuffed them in a messy pile in his satchel, that was kept under a bunk-bed. Gloria gathered up all of our notebooks and folders and held them tightly to her chest. The Other Doctor took all of the tablets and slid them into someone's backpack. Greg and Rachel picked up miscellaneous pieces of paper off the floor as if one of them might have been useful.

Did I mention all this happened in about 5 seconds?

By the time we'd gotten everything, there was a booming knock on the door.

"Hey, anyone in there?" Oh, I'd missed Dean's gruff voice.

"Hello? Clara? Are you there?" yelled the Doctor, _my_ Doctor. My face broke into a huge smile.

"Yeah," I shouted, desperately with a gleeful, manic laugh. "We're in here! Could you let us out?"

The sound of a high-pitched buzzing reached my ears; it was like a breath of fresh air. It had only been a couple of days since I'd heard it, right? My sense of time was so whacked out, I could have spent weeks in this room.

The door slowly creaked open and I let out a breath that I didn't realize I'd been holding. My smile dropped.

Sam and Dean looked fine, but the Doctor seemed to have gone through hell. His bow-tie had fallen off and his jacket was burnt. His face was smudged with black, like there'd been a fire. Meanwhile, Castiel was nowhere to be seen.

"Doctor!" I exclaimed, running forward and hugging him around the waist. "You okay? What happened?"

"Uh..." he mumbled. "Tell you later. And," he said, pointing to the other prophets, "aren't you going to introduce us to them?"

"Oh, right!" I said, gesturing to the others. "Dean, Sam, Doctor, these are-"

A wailing noise interrupted me. Some sort of alarm was blaring throughout the compound.

"We gotta run," Sam yelled over the invasive sound. "We'll talk later. Come on!"

So we ran. Through countless corridors and infinite hallways, always with the same irritating alarms echoing around us. It was kind of aimless, to be honest, and I was glad when we finally stopped outside a perfectly identical door to all the other ones. All nine of us were panting by then, Greg most of all; I could tell his job didn't usually involve running. Apart from him, the rest of us seemed to have held up well.

The room was empty and void of all furnishings apart from two tarnished metal benches. Greg, Gloria and Kevin squeezed onto one, while Rachel, the Other Doctor and Dean sat on the other. This left my Doctor, Sam and I standing or leaning against the wall.

"Alright," the Doctor started, once everyone had calmed down. He reached towards his neck to fix his bow-tie, but remembered it had been lost in the fire. "Who are you people?"

"Greg Lestrade," heaved the Detective Inspector, still trying to catch his breath.

"Gloria Ramirez," squeaked the mouse-like teenaged girl.

"Rachel Elizabeth Dare," the redhead said boldly, grinning up at us.

"Kevin Tran." Kev's defeated, husky voice was surprisingly cheery now that he was free. Sam and Dean smiled at him warmly.

"Oh, and I suppose," interjected the Other Doctor, "you know who I am."

My Doctor's head rose from the bit of ground he'd been staring at. His eyes turned all squint-y and calculating.

"Right," he said faintly. "You're-"

"The other you. Metacrisis you."

"How's-"

"Rose?"

"Yeah."

"She's fine. Must be worrying about me, though. Gotta get back to her and-"

"And who?" My Doctor's seemed curious- but afraid of what the answer to his question might be.

"Um.. Rose and Jackie. Obviously. There's, uh, no one else I have to get back to. No one at all, no one-"

"Am I the only one who's really freaking confused?" Rachel blurted out.

**O-O-O-O-O**

After the two Doctors explained their situation, how metacrisis' worked and who 'Rose' exactly was, I have to admit, I was feeling sour. I'd forgotten that the Doctor had a whole life before me- 11 lives, in fact. I most definitely wasn't the first. It was an odd concept. _We must be nothing_, I thought. _Tiny, microscopic humans. Like bacteria to him. Just blips in his timeline. _

Instead of voicing this to the Doctor, I simply stood there, hands in the pockets of my dress, which was pretty dirty after days and days of wearing it. He'd moved on from personal history now, and he was asking Kevin to explain the whole Prophet thing to him.

I sighed and slumped down against the wall as the meeting adjourned. Gloria and Rachel were whispering heatedly, while both the Doctors sat with Kevin and Greg, trying to make sense of this whole mess. Sam and Dean gravitated towards me for some reason, so we sat together on the floor like kids. They both looked shaken up, but otherwise unharmed, thank God. Dean in particular seemed more down that usual, like something terrible had just happened.

"So…" I began. "What happened to you two?"

"Well, we got imprisoned, but it's not like that's never happened before," Sam explained. "We got stuck with this angel, Gabriel, who we have a… uh… past with."

"Wait, Gabriel? _The_ Gabriel? From the Bible?"

"…Yeah. Anyway, then we found out how you guys got here- Gabriel is an archangel, so he knows about all of you, even in different universes. He, um, transports you here- against his will, but still. Then the impossible happened-"

"Impossible? Sam, nothing's impossible. You should know that by now."

"Well, it was still weird as Hell. It was the TARDIS. Then Cas came out of it! And there was something wrong- he said something about Bad Wolf, and the TARDIS life force, and then he destroyed all the demons except Crowley."

"So that's why the guards disappeared," I mused.

"Yeah, well, after that it got weirder. Apparently Cas must have absorbed too much power or something, because he started to, um, flicker. He got weaker, and then he collapsed or something-"

Dean grimaced and his eyes dropped to the ground. Cas was somewhat of a sensitive topic around him, I'd noticed.

"Er," Sam continued, clearly desperate to change the subject,"Then Cas got our door open somehow, and the Doctor ran with us to you guys. He talked to us while we were running- he's a great multi-tasker, seriously! That's how we knew what was happening, basically."

"So now what?" I asked, feeling trapped in the small metal room with 8 other people.

"I guess we're just waiting for someone to think of a plan," said Dean somberly.

So we talked for a while, and I watched the Doctors interacting together, and I noticed how low the ceiling was, and how clean the walls were, and I went over to Gloria and Rachel to check on how they were doing, and I discussed our situation with the Doctor, then Sam, then Dean, then I went round and round in circles until my mind was numb. I didn't want to wait. I wanted fire in my blood, I wanted my bones to move further than 5 meters, I wanted to battle creatures and see new worlds. I lost count of my sighs.

Finally, something interesting happened. There was a quiet knock on the door. Even though it could have been an enemy, secretly I was excited.

Dean reached for a weapon, but failed to retrieve one from the innards of his jacket pocket. _Obviously they took his guns and knives away_, I thought. Dean was jumpy, he was scared for the first time. It freaked me out, to be perfectly honest. If Dean Winchester was scared, we were all screwed.

We all gathered around the door, tensing up in anticipation. The Doctor ever-so-slowly stepped forward. He readied his sonic as if it could actually help. Reaching forward, he pushed open the door as cautiously as he could.

I didn't have time to properly see the intruder- he burst through the door like it was the tape at the finish line of a marathon. He turned to face the group.

He was definitely interesting. His eyes were clear and golden, but his nose was all funny- sharp and misshapen. There was a bandage wrapped around his head and he had a black eye. His thin mouth crept into an attractive smirk.

"What's up, peeps?" he said, laughing. "Wow, that's- what- 6 prophets? Damn. Plus two hunters and an alien… it sounds like the beginning of a bad joke!"

"Gabriel." Dean sounded angry- I thought Gabriel was one of his allies?

"That's me," the archangel chuckled, winking at me. "How goes it? No, don't answer that. Anyway, anyone have a lock-pick?" he asked, holding up his hands. A thin golden chain, engraved in strange markings, wove around his emaciated wrists.

The Doctor, eyes narrowed in confusion, held up his screwdriver and pointed it at the cuffs. They clicked open after a couple of seconds and Gabriel cast them off.

"Ugh, finally," he muttered. "I can breathe."

"What did those do to you?" Gloria asked inquisitively.

"Well, Gloria, they cut off my angel powers. So now I can do a crap-load of stuff, like kill people, maybe alter reality, no biggie."

"How did you know my name?" Gloria's voice was timid and awed.

"Of course I know your name, Gloria Kyra Ramirez. Just like I know your dad walked out on you when you were seven and you have a younger sister with leukemia. I know all about all of you! I'm an archangel, a protector of prophets! Has no one here even read the Bible?"

o-o-o-o-o

Waiting, _again._

The Doctors and Gabriel had assumed leadership over us, for some stupid reason, and I was sick of it. They were huddled in the corner, talking rapidly and heatedly. How utterly pretentious of them.

Gloria and Rachel were still seated together, while Sam, Greg and Kevin were talking about something I really didn't care about. That left me and Dean to sit on the ground, frustrated with just about everything.

Suddenly, Gabriel hissed in pain. We all faced him expectantly.

"I can hear something," the angel warned. "You're not gonna like it."

"What is it?" questioned Sam.

"I can hear more demons. Crowley's probably calling up reinforcements from Hell."

"Well, isn't that just _super?_" Dean said sarcastically.

"That's not all… I can hear another angel."

"What?" demanded Dean. "Who is it?"

"Castiel," said Gabe. "I'm pretty sure, anyway. Oh, what has my lil bro gotten himself into this time?"

Dean's face fell- it was like someone had dropped an anvil onto his shoulders. His eyes darkened with anger.

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to stay calm for Dean's sake.

"He's screaming. Screaming for help. He's being tortured- ouch." Gabriel winced as he heard something. "That's gotta hurt."

"Well, do something!" Dean shouted. "Help him!"

"I… I can't," Gabriel admitted. There's something about this place… I can't fly to him. Plus, even if I could fly, I'd have to face Crowley. That is really not something I want to do in this state." He gestured to his injuries.

Dean still looked ready to murder someone, but he apparently kept it in.

"So, should we get a rescue party? Or what?"

"Um, Dean," said the Doctor, "I don't think that's a very good idea. These prophets are all precious- we can't risk one of them falling into Crowley's hands."

"But- but it's _Cas_!" Dean yelled, losing his temper. "He's family to me- We have to help him!"

The Doctor just looked at the floor somberly. Everyone else had fallen silent by this point, and was watching the argument unfold, only I seemed to be on Dean's side.

Furious, Dean stormed off, back into the corner. I shot a pleading look at the Doctor before going to join Dean.

Dean broodingly flicked the wall with his calloused fingertips. I plopped down beside him, and leaned against his shoulder.

"We should just leave," I decided. "We should run out and get Cas ourselves."

"We could," Dean agreed. "But it could be dangerous for you. With Crowley and all. And I don't even have weapons!"

"We don't need any! I could go in and distract Crowley- we could use me as bait-"

"No way." Dean's tone was firm. "I am not letting anything bad happen to you."

"But I could do it!" I argued. "I've done it before!"

"Not with Crowley, you haven't."

"I'm still coming with you."

"Okay, fine. But not as bait. We'll go, wait until Crowley leaves, then take Cas outta there."

"Well, that's foolproof," I joked. It really didn't seem like the best plan.

"Shut up. It'll work, I know it. It has to."

**Damn, this chapter was hella long. I have no idea why. Are y'all enjoying the fic so far? Any constructive criticism is welcome! Reviews motivate me to write more, so type something in that lil box below and make my day! :)**


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